


House of the Holy

by Rainydaysunrise



Category: Black Veil Brides, Legion of the Black (Music Video), Wretched and Divine: The Story of the Wild Ones - Black Veil Brides (Album)
Genre: Character Death, Final words from the prophet, Gen, Tie in to other piece?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 06:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainydaysunrise/pseuds/Rainydaysunrise
Summary: The Prophet is dying.And he does the only thing he knows how to do.Write.





	House of the Holy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you have a great day and thank you for reading! :D
> 
> King of pain lyrics aren't mine.

The house of sight.

The church.

A holy ground. 

The beginning and the end of all that stays true.

The home of the prophet and the one who holds humanity. 

But tonight, the prophet is dying.

The air is still, no sounds coming from the rats that crawl across the floor.

“Don’t let me go to the desert that I left behind.”

The begging.

The bargaining. 

“Don’t make me.” 

The others are dead, ash and dust. 

But what else is to be expected when you are but a man?

Not a goddamn hero like everyone had played him to be. 

Not a fucking prophet.

He sits on the pew, blood coming from places it shouldn’t and air rattling in his lungs as he scribbles on a piece of paper. 

Final words.

How fitting.

Not taken out by executioner or by death itself.

But by a friend.

The words pour out in lyrics that wouldn’t be sung, but maybe found by whomever found him.

“Don't ever look to the sun

He will burn your eyes with the fire of his light

And never pray in the house of eternal sight 

Where the spirit goes to die

So now we stand up and again we cry for the passion of his name

It's where we love, where we hate

It's the price we pay when our love is out of time”

Shaking hands and rattling lungs. 

Run, Prophet, run. 

(((You’ll find peace soon)))

His vision is starting to go, fuck, this is bad. 

He wondered briefly is anyone would find him, if anyone would care to. 

A rebel, a runaway, a fucking goddamn saint.

“When we find what we need from these broken hearts

And what was missing from the start

Speak the words of a God that refuse to lie

To a believer then won't try

I want to give up as my vision fades

I'm left alone and now I'm blind

Don't let me go to the desert that I left behind

With the ashes of a fate that died.”

The words of a Prophet that was.

He runs.

He can see them now.

Juliet.

The swamp witch.

The Deviant.

The Destroyer.

The Mystic.

But...No Mourner.

He’s missing.

The Prophet breathes a sigh of relief as he sags forward, hitting the hard wooden floor with a thud. 

He’s running, paper gripped in a tight fist.

And for the first time in his life,

He’s going home.


End file.
